


What Happens at the School Dance . . . Spreads Like Wildfire

by Spikedluv



Category: Glee
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck + Kurt + School Dance = Sexy Shenanigans</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens at the School Dance . . . Spreads Like Wildfire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for breea1 who asked for: ToppyPossesive!Puck and SubbyDefiant!Kurt. That’s what I set out to write, anyway, but at some point this fic got away from me and went in a totally unexpected direction. *g*
> 
> Written: April 6, 2010

Kurt raised his chin and glared at Puck, which only made Puck smile.

Which in turn pissed Kurt the fuck off.

Which apparently turned Puck the hell on.

“Don’t you even think about it, Noah Puckerman.” Kurt sneered. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole if you were the last man in Lima.”

It was a total lie, of course, even if Kurt was currently not speaking to Puck, and therefore honor bound to not have sex with him. Or engage in heavy petting. Or petting of any kind. Or make out with him.

Or even look at him, because Puck, especially when he loomed over Kurt like that, looking all determined and hot, well, Kurt really couldn’t be faulted if he wavered just a little bit in his conviction.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Puck said, pressing himself against Kurt, and Kurt into the wall so he couldn’t escape.

Kurt turned his head to the side and stared off at the first thing his eyes fell on – a pair of old fashioned bloomers someone had painted ‘Rachel’ on in neon pink and thrown up on top of the lockers – so that he didn’t have to look at Puck.

“I just said that I’d like you better out of them.”

“I bought this outfit especially for this dance,” Kurt huffed.

It was the first school dance they were attending as a couple and Kurt had wanted to look his best. Not that he didn’t always look fabulous, but it wouldn’t do to become complacent.

“Please,” Puck scoffed. “You telling me you didn’t buy these tight little pants . . . .” Puck emphasized his words by sliding his hand down Kurt’s hip and around to his ass and squeezing, and his voice went deep and rough. “Just so I’d think about sliding them down and bending you over the table and fucking you right there in front of everyone?”

Kurt may have imagined Puck’s reaction when he saw Kurt in his new outfit, but there was no way he was going to admit that to Puck now. So he tossed his head and lied.

“Of course not. These are $200 pants, and . . . .”

Puck shut Kurt up by smashing his lips onto Kurt’s and licking into his mouth. Kurt was still hurt that Puck hadn’t said something nice about his appearance after all the trouble he’d gone to, to look good for Puck on their first official public date, so he was determined not to give in.

Even though Puck kissed like Kurt imagined the love child between Lady Gaga and Beyonce might kiss. If they could produce a love child.

Kurt was breathless when Puck finally drew back. He licked hot, swollen lips and tried to gather his thoughts. Finally he said, “I’m still not talking to you.”

Puck looked annoyingly smug when he said, “You will be.” He lowered his head so his words whispered across Kurt’s ear. “You’ll be telling me how much you want me to touch you, begging for it. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

Kurt glared at Puck, but he didn’t bother denying it, because if past experience were to be believed, Puck wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean Kurt had to like it.

Puck slipped his hand between them and reached for the waistband of Kurt’s pants. Kurt slapped his hand away and glanced down the darkened hallway to the doors that were the only thing between them and the fully lit hallway that led to the gymnasium where the dance was being held.

Kurt hissed, “Right here? Are you nuts?”

“Just horny,” Puck said, pulling at Kurt’s top, trying to find a way inside. “So many buckles. Take it off for me.”

“No, no way . . . !”

Puck finally found a sliver of skin and Kurt’s words turned into a moan as he shivered when gooseflesh broke out up his side. Puck upped the ante by nibbling on Kurt’s neck, which was a surefire way of making him do anything Puck wanted, and sealed the deal by sliding his other hand between Kurt’s thighs and rubbing the heel of his hand over Kurt’s (hard, yes, he was just that easy, apparently) dick.

“It took me half an hour to get _into_ this outfit!” Kurt complained as he reached for the first buckle.

“I believe it,” Puck said. “Worse than a chastity belt.”

“I should walk away and leave you here right now,” Kurt muttered.

“You won’t,” Puck said confidently.

Kurt would have kneed Puck in the balls and left him writhing on the floor if Puck had sounded the least bit arrogant, but his voice only carried the certainty of a man who knew exactly what _his_ man would do for him. For a guy who wasn’t afraid to share his opinions, Kurt found it a little bit surprising that Puck’s surety in his response turned him on.

Kurt spread his legs a little bit more to give Puck better access to his balls, which Puck immediately took advantage of.

“Puck,” Kurt moaned as he struggled with the last buckle.

“What do you want, baby?” Puck said, and Kurt would have hated him in that moment for knowing him so well if _he_ didn’t know that Puck would give him whatever he asked – begged – for, and more.

Puck never told Kurt to roll over, or to spread his legs, or to get on his knees, even though Kurt could always tell what Puck wanted from him. Puck never had to ask. He just touched Kurt in all the right places until he couldn’t take it anymore, and he’d beg Puck for the one thing Puck wanted to do anyway. The longer Kurt held out, the more thorough Puck was, but Kurt wasn’t sure how much time they’d have before someone came looking for them, or just stumbled upon them, and besides, arguing with Puck, knowing that the make up sex would be amazing, always shortened the length of time he could hold out.

“You have stuff?” Kurt said, panting a little as Puck worked one hand beneath the loosened top.

“What stuff?” Puck said.

Kurt knew that Puck wanted him to ask for it. A tiny part of him thought about resisting, but the larger part, the part that wanted it as much as Puck did, broke. “Condom,” Kurt said, “and lube.”

“I’ve got a condom,” Puck said. “Don’t need lube, do I?”

Kurt shivered as Puck bit down on his neck. He shook his head, and moaned as Puck slid one hand over Kurt’s ass, then stroked his fingers between his cheeks. He found the base of the plug – the one item he’d chosen for Kurt to wear that night – and toggled it. Kurt moaned, and one final tug had the last buckle coming undone.

“If these pants were any tighter, I’d be able to see this,” Puck said in Kurt’s ear. “Everyone would know you were wearing a plug, getting you ready for me.”

The thought of it, of Puck seeing the outline of the base of the plug through his pants, of everyone knowing, made Kurt groan. Puck continued to play with the plug, driving Kurt wild as he asked him what he wanted. Kurt no longer had any thoughts about holding back, trying to hold out.

“Fuck me,” Kurt breathed.

“Right here? Right now?” Puck said, not even bothering to pretend to sound scandalized.

“Yes,” Kurt moaned, “now,” as he unfastened the zip at his hip and pushed down his pants.

“Such a naughty boy,” Puck teased as Kurt turned around and pressed his hands to the wall, pushed his ass back.

Puck’s fingers found the plug again, pressed at the ring of muscle until the tip of one finger slid inside Kurt alongside the plug.

“Tell me again what you want.”

“F-fuck me,” Kurt whimpered.

“You don’t sound like you mean it,” Puck said, though Kurt heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of his zip being lowered.

“I do,” Kurt said, saying the words Puck needed to hear. Kurt was never sure when it stopped being him playing the game, telling Puck what he wanted to hear, and became Kurt saying the words because he couldn’t _not_ say them. “Please. I need it bad.”

“Need what, baby?”

Kurt heard the sound of the foil packet being torn open, which created the image in Kurt’s mind of Puck rolling the condom on.

“You, inside me, Puck, please.”

“Since you asked so nice,” Puck said as he slowly withdrew the plug from Kurt.

Kurt moaned as his hole was left feeling empty, and then again at the pressure against his entrance as Puck replaced the plug with his cock.

“Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Puck groaned.

Puck paused, waiting, Kurt knew, for Kurt to adjust to the stretch, waiting for his own arousal to back off enough so he didn’t come the first time he thrust into Kurt. Finally Kurt couldn’t take the wait anymore.

Kurt wiggled his ass as if to say, “Any time now.” Out loud he said, “Please. Puck, please.”

Puck pulled back, then thrust into him.

“Fuck, yeah, don’t stop, more,” Kurt babbled as Puck fucked him.

After having worn the plug for the past few hours, Kurt was so close (he’d been hard before Puck had picked him up for the dance, which had prompted Puck’s comment about wanting Kurt out of his clothes) that it wouldn’t take much for him to come. Kurt reached for himself, but Puck intercepted his hand.

Before Kurt knew what had happened, both of his arms were stretched above his head, both wrists clasped in one of Puck’s larger hands.

“No touching,” Puck said as he slid his other hand to Kurt’s hip and just held on to him. “I want you to come just from my cock.”

Kurt moaned.

“I know you can do it, baby. You’ve been needing this,” Puck said, emphasizing the word with a twist of his hips, “ever since you slid that plug inside you, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Kurt nearly sobbed as Puck pounded into him.

“Wanna see you come, wanna feel you come, all over the wall, tight on my cock.”

Kurt whined deep in his throat. “Puck, please.”

“Come on, baby, come for me,” Puck said, breath feathering across Kurt’s ear, and Kurt keened Puck’s name and striped his come all over the wall.

“Fuck, yeah,” Puck groaned as his hips jerked against Kurt’s ass.

Puck sucked a red mark onto Kurt’s neck as they rested against the wall, Kurt only getting slightly smooshed as Puck held himself up with the hand on the wall. Puck released Kurt’s wrists so he could pull his arms down and let the blood rush back into them, and then slowly pulled out of him.

Kurt squeaked in surprise when Puck slid the plug back inside him, and then shivered when Puck said, “Mmm, yeah, I’m not done with you yet.”

Puck dragged him into the bathroom, where he disposed of the condom, and they both cleaned up and put their clothes back together.

“I’m wrinkled,” Kurt complained. “And my hair’s out of place.” He peered closer into the mirror. “And my make up’s smudged!”

“Oh yeah,” Puck said with approval, “you totally look like you just got fucked good. Every single person in that gym is gonna know what we were just doing, gonna know you’re mine.”

Kurt thought he should be a little bit mad, or embarrassed, about that, but since that was exactly what he’d wanted (though in his mind everyone knew that Puck was _his_ ) he didn’t waste time pretending. He just grabbed Puck’s hand and marched him right back to the dance, where Mercedes was the first person to notice them. Her eyes went wide, and then she gave Kurt two thumbs up.

Kurt winked at Mercedes, then turned wide eyes on Puck. Puck slid his arm around Kurt’s shoulder and led him to the dance floor. Yeah, Puck might think that he was in charge in this relationship, but Kurt Hummel had Noah Puckerman right where he wanted him.

The End


End file.
